Just when I thought life was going to settle down into a nice, steady routine – WHAMMO!!!!!! No way, it isn’t.

John is scheduled for surgery on Monday. The bone in his shoulder has to be scraped and chiseled in order for the repaired tendon to fit into place. Then, they have to drill a few little holes through the bone so that the tendon sits properly. We don’t know how long he’ll be in the hospital nor how long his recovery will be or what he’ll be capable of. He will likely be home between 6 – 8 weeks. (Those who know me and my hubby will know why this is a mixed blessing) So for now, we wait. But this comes on the heel of a horror week.

After ‘Miss A’ and I got home from Sydney, we had to rush around and buy a new (new to us but second hand) van as our Tarago van died. We bought one, went to get it registered only to find that it hadn’t had a safety certificate for a few years so we had to book in somewhere and get that done. Then, we thought we should change our license’s over to QLD which went smoothly for me but not so for DH who, unbeknownst to us, had been suspended! What? Why? How? When? Where? We asked. Turns out that two and a half years ago, we got a speeding ticket.Okay. I paid it. However, I must have paid it late, after some fees had gone on so it turns out that we still owed $30 in fees which had suspended his license. But they never let us know about it. After a great many of phone calls and frustration, we got it sorted out. We returned home from fixing all that up to find that the front tyre was flat. No worries- John taught 12yods to change the tyre which he did a great job with. John couldn’t do it with his arm in the sling. Bravo Rambo!

Then we had my Dad and his friend visit, which I found incredibly emotional and draining. It was lovely to see him again and to meet his ‘friend’ but very draining.

As you might remember from some photo’s of our new place, we don’t have much of a yard. Still, boys will be boys and ‘Rambo’ (12yods) had taken to kicking the soccer ball lightly against OUR house wall. It really wasn’t very much but it gave him something to do. Well, our neighbour came running out, yelling at him to ?Go inside. I’m sick of hearing that Bang!Bang! Bang! That’s all I hear all day is bang! Bang! Bang! And I’m sick of it. If you want to kick a ball you should go down to the park. Now go inside where you belong!

The neighbour is of Maltese descent, and her shrilly voice fairly scared the boys, while I got angry. I’m all for being neighbourly and that but goodness, can’t my boys do anything in their own backyard? They didn’t do it again for a few days, even though I told them they could so long as they ensured me that they would only do it on the house wall or other fence. Well, a few days later ‘Rambo’ went outside to practice his kicking and within a few minutes, the shrieking was heard again and ‘Rambo’ came inside pretty quickly. John was home (shoulder injury) so he went across to see what the problem is. Turns out that the neighbour was very apologetic but his wife has suffered a nervous breakdown a few months ago and is trying to recover. Gee, did I feel like a nasty pasty or what! However, I still feel for my boys. My heart breaks for them. No yard, no park close by…what ARE they supposed to do to burn off some energy?

Things were looking up for ‘R’ as she was excited to be going to her friends house for awhile. This would mean a plane trip to Canberra, which is all rather exciting. So, we awoke this morning at 4am in order to shower and leave for the airport, not realizing how much traffic would be on the road at 5.15am!Upon arrival at the airport, I went straight to the teller and stood in the short line when an orderly came up and asked me if I had already used the computer to retrieve the e-baggage ticket. No, I hadn’t I told him as I found it quicker and easier to use the teller. This was based on my experience only one week ago in the Sydney airport. Well, it doesn’t work that way here (with Qantas) I HAD to get my eticket first! I ran to the eticket machine, punch in ‘R’s name while the machine tells me that it is sorry but I am 2 minutes late for booking luggage! 2 min late? The time I was waiting in line for the teller! I was told to go to the ticket area and that ‘R’ would have to take the next flight! No way! So, John stayed in the line with the suitcase trying to arrange it to go at a later time while ‘R’ and I sprint for the plane. Nope! Luggage can’t be sent separately as it is a security issue. So, John met us in the boarding area while we explained to the flight crew what had happened. They informed us to simply go to the security luggage area which was only 15 metres away and they would handle the suitcase. Sounds easy eh? Ha! The fellow there said that if we had missed the luggage then all we could do was to take the next flight which left in 2 hours. Cool eh? Except it stopped over in Sydney and there was no way that I was going to allow my daughter to stop over! Then he said we could wait for 2 and a half hours for another direct flight, for the same price. It was at this point (6am) that I became a sobbing, blubbering mess. I couldn’t help it. I explained that this wouldn’t work either as the people who were responsible for picking ‘R’ up reside 2 hours out of ACT and they had already left to head into town to get her! At seeing me in such a mess he practically snatched the suitcase from me and stormed off with it, saying all the while that by doing this he was compromising the security of his personal life (whatever that meant). He tagged it and it was to be stowed away in the captain’s cabin. The lovely attendants listened to my blubbering and assured me that they’d keep an eye on ‘R’. A quick kiss and hug and ‘R’ was off! Yes, she landed safely. All is well. Friends picked her up and she’s as happy as Larry. Most surprising though was that through all this, not once did ‘R’ have to offer any identification- photo or otherwise! All this concern with security yet she boarded the plane having displayed NO identification!

I don’t know what else can go wrong but amidst it all I know that I’m alive to breathe praise for another day…to the God of all creation. I don’t know why things happen or how this is meant to ‘grow me’. All I know is that I get up in the morning, put one foot in front of the other, utter words of praise and get about the day, thankful that I am surrounded by people who love me and whom I love. Thank you Lord.